Mall Rats
by PegasusUnbound
Summary: There was something singular about D.C. after dark . . . and he felt he just had to share it with her. Tiva
1. Chapter 1

_Mall Rats: Chapter One_

Together, they stood close, each sharing the other's side.

_Against the night, they cut a pair of paper silhouettes against a scene that glowed with auburn shadows and candlelight; gold flickered around their edges. _

They both had their hands deep in their coat pockets.

_The evening was chilled, the season folding to autumn. Crisp, spiced, and sweet. Stars burned overhead, uncorrupted by cloud-cover, and the bronze bell of the moon tolled and umber-dark noon; midnight. _

Two empty coffee cups steamed against the cold off in a nearby trash drum. Only one of them had lip stain on the rim.

_Around them, the only two souls to be seen, a sleepy veil of history seemed to hang; stoic statues and white, Grecian constructions were illuminated by the warmth of flood lights. _

A man and woman, both young and trembling slightly at the presence of the other, turned their eyes, panning their sights, taking in the domes and the pillars and the gilded placards of dates and times.

_The serpentine sway of red, white, and blue pockmarked the visible horizon, here and there, cloth snapping in the breeze. _

The more diminutive of the highlighted pair tilted her head, appreciating the careful pride of the city. Her companion's eyes rested a sideways glance on her, hopeful for a smile. He'd brought her here, after all. He'd wanted to share this with her.

_Now and again, off a ways on the road, the headlights of a car would flash their beams across the face of a museum, an archive, or a street sign, bold letters commemorating founding fathers and states and other fames standing out against a matting of green. _

He'd wanted her to feel it; the very air seemed strung with the gentle pulse of a nation's heart, it's capital, sleeping with one eye always open.

_It was Washington D.C. in the nighttime . . ._

--

She'd told him earlier that day as they were standing in the squad room together. She mentioned that yes, she'd been here for so long, but she'd never seen the Mall after dark.

Well, she said, she'd seen it in her car. There had been many a time that she'd driven home through D.C. after late hours at work, of course. But he shook his head to that, asked her more specifically, "Have you ever _walked_ it, Ziva?"

She never had.

"I have never felt the need to do so. I see the monuments every day; I look out my apartment window and can see them off in the distance. And they are the same buildings at dawn as they are at dusk, yes?"

He studied her then, watching her watch him, her dark eyes clearly questioning his position. There was no way to hold back his smile. He had to shake his head again.

"No."

Her eyebrow twitched.

"'No'? How do you mean, 'no'?" She seemed ready to laugh at the mere idea of his proposal. "You are trying to convince me they are different buildings, Tony?"

"Yep."

This time she did laugh, though the expression was not entirely unkind. There was affection in her eyes. Clearly she assumed this whole conversation to be another game, another round of banter. She enjoyed their rapport; the fact that he acted the fool when he truly wasn't amused her. It was just that here she was missing his sincerity.

So he leaned down a little, trying to show her a hint of the intensity his eyes could choose to hold.

"Let me show you," he said softly, daring her just slightly.

Her smile boiled down then, and Tony saw the shift as she adopted the look she wore when she wasn't sure about him. It was like she was searching him for lecherous intent without being entirely sure she'd mind if she found it.

He happened to love that look. It always brought a bit of heat to the back of his neck.

They remained that way only briefly. After a few seconds of assessment, the line of her body altered; one of her knees unlocked, swinging out a hip, and she let the movement rock her as it settled. The stance was one of classic provocation, and as Ziva let her gaze track him up and down, lips pursing, she was giving him her agreement.

He pulled his grin to one side, sliding his head, narrowing his eyes.

"Pick you up tonight?" He asked.

Smiling back at him, she brought up a hand, tapping him lightly on the chest.

"You may."

And then she was walking away, swaying her lower half playfully, knowing that his eyes would be on her -- and they were -- until she was gone around the corner, off to some errand. At that point, the game was over. At least for the moment.

Tony went over and seated himself behind his desk, leaning back, hands behind his head, and thought about her for a while.

He wondered if there would ever come a day when he'd tell her just how much she intimidated him, and just how _little_ he minded that fact.

He laughed.

It would probably be the day she decided to either kiss him or kill him . . .

It was four hours later that he stood at her door, a coffee in each hand -- well, a tea for her -- knocking with his foot as the collar of his trench coat was popped up by the breeze.

He heard the dead bolt slide back soon after he stepped back to wait, and when she finally appeared to greet him, he smiled. She was wearing her bright orange ski cap again; he hadn't seen it on her for months. He'd forgotten how well she wore it. Few women could pull off something so gaudy.

"Gotcha tea," he managed around his grin. Her eyes twinkled at the gesture, looking at him carefully as she took the drink he offered and sniffed it experimentally.

"It's chai," he amended, and was pleased when she nodded approvingly.

"Chai is good." Ziva turned to lock her door behind her, and, glancing back over her shoulder, she thanked him.

"But I wonder," she mused, brushing his side as she turned and slipped by him, "Why something so well-caffeinated? You planning for a long night?"

Let on the front step as she continued down the walk, Tony gave a single, awkward laugh.

"Well, uh," he fought to recover, "Yes, as a matter of . . ."

He trailed off, paling slightly as she turned back to him, crossing her arms.

"I mean _no_." He laughed again. "Okay, well . . . If you're thinking what I think you think I'm thinking, then . . . no, I'm not. At least, not _that_ kind of long night."

"Do tell what kind, then." She was entertained by his squirming, clearly.

Knowing she'd had him and realizing she knew it, Tony quickly formulated his return. Taking a deep breath, he forced out his nervousness. His grin faded toward something more sly, more confident. Stepping down onto the walk, he strolled slowly up to her, milking his coffee for an overlong sip.

"Well," he said, throwing his shoulders back and rolling his neck to a crack, "I figured I'd give you the grand tour, you know? Go all the way from here to there . . . oh, and don't worry. I'll make sure you see _everything_ on the way." He played his voice low into her ear, his eyes glinting mischievously as he tried to force as much perversion as he could into those mundane words.

The vapor from his breath steamed against her throat.

He chuckled, noting inwardly how his companion gave a half-shiver before shutting down the reaction, grimacing to herself. He continued on, but backing off to give her more space.

"I know it's a little cool out," he said, "but I figure that's fine 'cause we might get a bit sweaty . . . though I suppose that depends on how fast we take this. And I suppose that really depends on _you_."

And, suddenly, as his mind began to form his next thought, his concentration faltered,

expression softening, losing focus.

"After all . . . tonight is all about you."

He froze.

Even to his own ears, those words came out a little heavy. Her eyes were on him in an instant, wide and dark and wondering. Suddenly aware of his slip, he blanked and blushed all at once.

"Uh . . ." and Tony could have sworn her face started to darken, too. It didn't help that they were still awfully close.

They both knew he'd meant those words to be laced with a teasing -- _dirty_ -- intonement.

But they hadn't been.

_Oops._

He tried to think of a way to save himself before he drowned in the silence, but he came up with nothing.

It was Ziva who spared him instead.

For a single, fractional moment, she let the line of her eyes soften, too, letting him in to see, then shutting him out again before he could be sure of just what it was he had seen.

Then she smirked and kneed him lightly in the groin.

"Come, my little furry bear," she purred playfully, taking his sleeve. Still dazed, Tony followed obediently for a stretch before managing to croak a soft reply.

"Ain't nothin' little about me!"

She laughed them all the way to her car.

_To be continued . . ._

--

Reviews are loved.

Critiques are encouraged.

Always feel free to ask questions . . .

However, please don't flame.

_Pegasus_


	2. Chapter 2

Mall Rats: Chapter Two

The drive to the Mall was a relatively brief one; Ziva had relinquished the wheel to Tony, who navigated the streets with practiced ease. He had them pulling past the Capital Building within minutes, and the glowing of the strip of the Navy yard was growing fainter with each block they left behind them. The swift efficiency, however, was more a product of habit than a desire to arrive at their destination any sooner. There was no rush. Neither Tony nor Ziva was particularly anxious to leave the confines of the car; the silence that had settled between them was a comfortable one, steeped with a pleasant undercurrent of jazz. Ziva had the radio murmuring sax, eyes glinting as Tony glanced at her.

She knew it was his favorite.

_Ha! _

Ziva sipped at her tea, smirking at the thought. If truth be told, she was growing quite fond of the genre as well . . . especially the instrumental pieces. Tony was rubbing off on her, but she supposed that was good. It never hurt for friends to have things in common.

It was after the smooth voice of the radio personality wrapped up the latest song with title and artist that the car finally pulled to the curb. Ziva leaned to the passenger's window, looked out, and smiled.

Tony had parked with her side to the sights; as soon as she stepped out of the car, she would be unable to see anything but the massive construction in front of her.

If this night was still about him trying to prove a point, he was off to a good start . . .

The gleaming white of the commemorative obelisk was bathed in a warm, golden color, under-shadowed from floodlights aimed upwards towards it's tapered endpoint. It stood like a silent sentinel, its height watching over all other buildings in the city. Around its base, a skirt of flags flashed their fresh-looking colors into the night, rippled by the breeze.

Even from this distance, straining to see from inside a car, Ziva couldn't help but be impressed.

She was still staring out the window when Tony pulled the keys from the ignition.

"We're here," he said, somewhat unnecessarily. "First stop, Washington monument."

Ziva didn't say anything, just pressed her forehead to the window, squinting up.

Unperturbed by her silence, Tony rustled beside her; his seat-belt clicked, disengaging, sliding back to the wall, and the car keys jangled as he slipped them into his coat. There was a moment of stillness as he searched the controls beside him, followed by a soft thunk as the doors unlocked around them.

Then his seat muttered in a way that let her know he was leaning towards her. She turned, catching his profile over her shoulder. He had his head at an angle, eyes narrowed as he tried to see the world outside as she saw it, following the line of her gaze.

Ziva smirked as her study of his face gained her his attention.

"What?" he asked, confident at first, then looking down at the slight space that remained the two of them. When he raised his eyes again, there was a simple question in them.

_Too close? _

She just turned her head, laughing lightly. Tony's eyebrow quirked.

Ziva had just responded to his almost-unconcious question with an almost-unconscious answer . . . only thing being, neither of them were quite sure what that answer was exactly.

So Tony just let the corner of his mouth turn itself upward, bring an arm up to rest on the dashboard in front of him, supporting his balance as he shifted back, trying to get a better look at her.

He took a breath as if he intended to ask something, then let it out with a sigh and smile. It seemed, after a moment, that he had decided to settle on a simpler question.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Sitting back, Ziva raised her drink, tipping it as if toasting. She smiled, too.

"Why not?"

And then their hands were reaching for their respective doors, popping the handles, opening the car to the crisp of the outside.

--

They stood together at the edge of the concrete stage that hosted the monument, necks craning back as they stared upwards. Imperfect shadows cast slatted light across their fronts.

They were very much alone here.

Ziva shifted her weight to one side, raising her shoulders tautly against the autumn chill. Tony had turned up his collar. The breeze was filtering briskly around their stillness, whispering past their ears, and the threat of shivers washed over them more than once. The discomfort was minimal, though. The pair of them were too captivated by the scene to really care.

"So," Tony asked, "What do you think?"

His voice broke a long silence.

Ziva looked up at her partner, her gaze manifesting a study of his jaw-line before jumping up to his eyes. She was searching him for smugness.

Despite all, she had not yet forgotten that this whole night was borne of a challenge.

Did the monuments of D.C. look so truly magnificent at night that they appeared completely separate from their daytime counterparts?

Ziva glanced up a the jutting structure before her.

It_ was _impressive. She was willing to admit that. But was it enough to prompt her surrender?

Ziva smirked, managing to purse her lips as she did.

No.

No it was not.

At least . . . not _yet_.

She had never given up so easily in their games before.

So she let out a throaty hum, one heavy with feigned indifference. She shifted away from Tony's side, beginning to meander the circular walkway around the obelisk. Her head tilted up as she pretended to sink into careful appraisal.

"You want to know what I think, Tony?"

Her question was teasing; they both knew she had heard him perfectly the first time.

But Tony played along.

"Yep," he said. "'S kinda why I brought ya here, Bad Girl."

Ziva grimaced, trying to hide her approval of the nickname as she looked back over her shoulder at him. He'd only called her that once or twice, but it was one of the few pet titles she accepted from him.

She paused mid-stride as she caught his eye. His eyebrow raised at her.

He repeated, forcing the words deliberately.

"What-do-you-think . . . Zee_-vah_?"

And there it was. The _other _name she'd come to cope with. She never could figure out why she hadn't forced that habit out of Tony before it became ingrained.

Maybe it was because it was endearing and irritating all at once, and that combination, a la DiNozzo, usually sparked amusement in her.

Inwardly, she let the idea laugh. Outwardly, she rolled her eyes.

"I think it is a fine attempt," she finally admitted. "It's an impressive monument. That's

very true. And the night does give it a little something _extra_."

Tony started to grin in triumph, but Ziva cut him off.

"But!" And she raised her finger poignantly. "I think your real reason for bringing me here is just a little too obvious . . . wouldn't you say, Tony?"

The prompt had her grinning before it was even out of her mouth.

She'd figured out a way to bypass her first defeat of the night.

Turning again, she continued away from her partner, leaving him with an expression of confused disappointment.

"What are you talking about?"

Ziva fought back a laugh. God, if he didn't sound lost! And it was genuine, too! His lack of comprehension almost made her feel guilty for the jab she was about to spring on him.

Almost.

And even if it had, she would have done it anyway.

"I'm just saying," she continued, hiding her amusement, "That's it's not exactly any secret why you would pick to start the night off with this particular monument. I mean," and she gestured grandly to the obelisk, "what with it's _massive_ size, it's . . . it's imposing height! It stands there so very proud and . . . _erect_ . . ."

Ziva drifted off, turning on heel to see the affect her words would have on her partner.

Looking at him, her dark eyes were mischievously devilish.

Her lips twitched in a victorious smirk as she saw nervousness claim the lines of Tony's body.

_Got you now! _

Tony could only stare back at her with a combination of incredulity and shock, mouth open slightly, a hand raised in a failed attempt to brandish some gesture. Any intended motion now seemed completely forgone. When he tried to speak, he could only manage an unintelligible, "Nuh . . ." before he blinked his expression clear.

Clearing his throat, he gave it another go.

"Allow me to reiterate," he swallowed. "What the _hell_ are you talking about, Ziva?"

But by this point, they both knew he understood completely. Though Ziva wasn't about to let go of her reigns any time soon. She smiled, raising her hands in a false display of submission.

"Hey, I did not _intend_ anything by that," she said, although her tone spoke otherwise. "Just considering how you normally think with your . . . 'downstairs brain' . . . I simply made an observation."

Tony was grimacing in irritation now, shifting uneasily as she looked him up and down.

"Yeah, yeah . . . callin' it like ya see it." he muttered.

"Exactly!" Ziva pointed at him for emphasis. "I have to remember that one."

Her ruffled counterpart responded with nothing more than a noncommittal shrug, spinning his coffee absently in his hands.

At the sight, Ziva blinked, then huffed.

What was this . . . ?

No retaliatory snap?

No offensive? Not even a defensive?

Where was the comeback? The grin? The swagger?

This was not how the game was supposed to be played!

Ziva gave a stout and silent growl of frustration. She hadn't really hit him _that_ hard, had she?

_Gah! _

"Oh, come on, Tony!" She decided to bait him. "Be a sport! Surely you don't intend to tell me that you did not know obelisks were phallic symbols!"

If nothing else, she felt the urgent need to get him fighting back. His current stance had her off-balance.

Then his eyes shot up, glaring a little.

"Well, yeah . . ." Tony hesitated. "I guess I _did_, but . . ." he waved a hand in the absence of words.

Ziva raised her eyebrows in relief at his attempt, then sprung back. Perhaps a bit too quickly. She bared her teeth in a grin.

"Then I rest my case!" She snickered.

"No, but . . . Ziva!"

"What!?" She was smirking in satisfaction now. She had him . . . 'off the bench,' yes?

_Yes?_

Rolling his eyes, Tony gave up on arguing. As he began to walk towards her, Ziva heard him grumbling.

" _. . . crazy chick!_"

That was about all she managed to catch, and by that time he was already next to her, a hand on her elbow.

"Come here," he said, and tugged lightly at her. Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"Where?"

"Just right over . . . wait, close your eyes first." He said, and looked at her, waiting expectantly for her to comply.

A tendon in his jaw twitched at the resulting outburst.

"Close my eyes!?" Ziva laughed incredulously. "Do you think me mad? How stupid would I have to be to let you, Tony DiNozzo, infamous womanizer of NCIS, lead me off blind!?"

She was practically in stitches over his request.

Her persistent teasing caused a look of genuine anger to flash across Tony's face.

_Or was that hurt?_

Ziva suddenly experienced a pang of the guilt she'd almost felt before this whole conversation started. She hiccuped, trying to suppress her laughter.

It wasn't enough. Tony began to bristle, his shoulders raising defensively.

"Could you cut it out for all of two seconds!?" he barked. "Seriously, just close your

eyes! I promise not to try anything . . . and even if I did, I'm sure you'd just use your ninjatastic skills to disembowel me with my own wristwatch or something."

_Ouch._

Ziva winced.

She'd overdone it. That much was clear.

And _now_ Tony was sissed at her! Wonderful!

She felt like smacking herself.

Realizing she'd pushed too far, Ziva stepped off.

"Okay," she said. "Okay," and offered him her arm. At the same time, she let her eyes leak an unspoken apology, then closed them before she could see whether or not Tony seemed to catch it.

She was worried for a moment that she'd managed to anger Tony to the point where he turned cold on her. And as it was, he took his time responding to her attempt at pacification. But at last he did, and Ziva let out her breath as quietly as she could. Tony's light touch had found its place on her arm again, and though his gentle nudge _was_ far more tentative than before, it was there none the less, and it was at least encouraging to know he was willing to give it all another go.

Apparently, her apology had been accepted.

Still, the mood was uncomfortably tense. In an effort to alleviate this, Ziva suddenly split a grin and bumped shoulders with her partner, jostling him playfully, though she felt a little silly doing it all with her eyes closed.

Then she raised her free hand and gestured theatrically.

"Lead on, Macbeth!"

Unfortunately, blind as she was, the wild motion went awry, making Tony yelp in surprise as she inadvertently cuffed him in the side of the head.

"Oh!" Ziva's eyes opened in horror. "Sorry! I am sorry, Tony, I did not mean--!"

But she was stopped short.

Tony was only chuckling good-naturedly, looking down at her gently as he carefully took her wrist and steered her hand away from his face.

"Relax," he said. "I know you didn't mean to do that. If you'd _meant_ to do it, I wouldn't still be standing. Would I, my ninja?"

Ziva just stared up at him with her widened gaze, blinking sheepishly as she shoved her fists into her pockets where they could be controlled. However, as the silence began to stretch, she realized he was waiting for her to say _something_.

So, after a moment, she lifted her shoulders in a half shrug, mumbling her reply.

"I guess not," she said. "I _am _sorry, though. Did I hurt you?"

Tony cocked his head, then said, "That depends."

He smirked, and the newfound slyness in his smile made Ziva very sorry she'd even asked in the first place.

On some level, she sensed what was coming . . .

"If I say _yes . . ._ will you offer to kiss it better?"

. . . and she was ready for it.

"No." she snapped.

Tony pouted as she grimaced up at him.

"Well, then," he said unhappily, "I guess there's no point."

"None what-so-ever."

"Fine."

"_Fine_."

And they stood that way for a moment, glaring at each other with false intensity, both trying to keep their respective expressions straight.

It wasn't long before they dissolved into laughter.

Within seconds, Ziva was nearly reduced to tears as she held her aching sides.

"I am an idiot!" she gasped, bringing a fist up to her grin and biting down hard, trying to subdue her mirth. She was laughing so hard it hurt. But she didn't have quite the heart to stop just yet.

Tony looked up at her from where he stood with his hands upon his knees. He coughed slightly against the cold, then let an uncharacteristically lopsided smile wander over his features.

Fleeting plumes of steam threaded from his lips as he titled his head.

"Yes, well . . ." he began slowly, and then chuckled warmly. "I have met no other woman – in my _entire_ womanizing career, mind you – that's made idiocy look quite as good as you do."

And something in the light of his eyes changed.

Ziva felt her face heat up at the compliment, but this time the sensation wasn't uncontrollable. She managed to keep her expression one of neutral amusement as she reached over and flicked her partner under the chin.

"Behave." She said, and then quickly raised her fingers to her lips. She did her best to conceal the sudden escape of the soft, lilting sound that commandeered her voice, but her amusement was such that she was unable to. Tony's squeak and display of mock agony demonstrated in response to her playful discipline was . . . well . . . dare she even think it?

_Irrisitable . . ._

She was hoping that, amidst his antics, he hadn't caught that little sound she'd made.

Unfortunately, his hearing was unnaturally sharp.

Tony cracked a smile at her while he continued to nurse his smarting throat.

"Ziva Dah-_veed!_" He stressed her name through his grin. "Did I just hear you . . . _giggle?!_"

_Dammit . . ._

Her skin tingled with a prickling embarrassment, although it was one that was not entirely unpleasant.

"Uh, no." Ziva huffed as if the mere idea were ridiculous. "Certainly not! Assassins do not 'giggle.' _Especially_ not Mossad assassins."

And she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes daring him to question her.

Which he did, of course.

"Yeah, well . . . first time for everything. But I didn't mean it like a bad thing," he said, squinting quizzically at her. "You shouldn't _take it_ bad, either."

Then he straightened up and tilted his head to the side, as he so often did. He gauged her for a brief stretch, as if assessing whether or not it was a good idea to say what it was he wanted to say.

When he finally spoke, his expression seemed to indicate that he still wasn't quite sure for his safety.

But he cleared his throat anyway.

"It's nice to hear you laugh like that once and a while."

_Oh . . ._

Ziva swallowed hard. She wasn't sure why, but those words seemed to shake her.

Maybe it had something to do with the way Tony was looking at her . . .

"Like what?" she asked, voice catching on an uneven breath. She did her best to make it sound like she was only humoring him.

Tony shrugged, adopting an expression that struck her as strange. It was as though he was looking at her . . . but not. His eyes weren't really focused.

"I dunno," he said. "I guess it just sounds . . . more natural. When you giggle, I mean. Or whatever it is you call it. Doesn't matter. The point is," he took breath that seemed to shake a bit, "when you laugh like that, you sound really . . . really happy. It's nice. That's all."

Then he inhaled sharply, coughed a little, and sighed, looking at her as though he expected her to strike him down, right then and there.

She only blinked.

"Oh."

What else was there to say to all that?

Ziva just continued to stand there, watching her partner, waiting. She hoped, deep down, that he wasn't expecting some grand response to his words.

It didn't take her long to realize he wasn't.

It seemed he was just grateful that he was still in possession of all the body parts he was born with . . . which caused something inside Ziva to twist uncomfortably.

_Does he really think I'd hurt him for saying something like that? _

The idea didn't sit well with her.

She shifted her weight awkwardly.

"Stop looking at me as though there is a bomb strapped to my chest, Tony."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

Tony's expression changed once again. The apprehension evaporated, and then was exchanged for an emotion that came in polar opposite.

His eyes glittered with playful perversion.

"Believe me, Ziva . . ." he said, smirking mischievously, "You don't need to strap on a bomb to get me to stare at your chest."

"Wait . . . what!? Tony!"

At this, Ziva yipped a stout curse in one of her many languages, sounding half-enraged and half-amused, if that combination was even possible. Then, she pounced forward a pace and swatted Tony solidly in the arm.

That uncomfortable twisty feeling was gone now.

As her partner did his best to defend himself, Ziva continued to chatter at him in strings of foreign insults, a hand raised and a finger pointing, until she realized he was trying to hide a smile from her.

"What!?" she snapped, stepping back.

Tony let the grin fall crookedly across his face.

"Nothin'," he said, "It's just that you're so damn hott when you're pissed. Makes me feel all tingly inside."

Ziva threw up her hands in frustration. She rolled her eyes.

"You are shameless, DiNozzo!"

Tony shrugged.

"I know. It's part of my charm."

Then he cocked his head.

"You have to admit, though . . . you _did_ walk straight into that one."

"Yeah. What_ever_!"

"You did!"

"Yeah, I know! Now can you _please_ just show me whatever it is you wanted to show me about this thing!?"

She waved a hand at the monument behind her.

Tony smirked again.

"Yeah. Sure."

And he threaded his arm through hers.

"Close you eyes," he said.

"Fine."

"Keep 'em closed."

"I am."

"Don't peek."

"I won't!"

"Well, okay! No need to get snippy!" Tony teased.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Tony!"

"Yes?"

"Do you value your penis?"

For once, Tony didn't respond right away.

"Uh . . ."

"If the answer is yes, then I suggest you shut up and move under with this."

"Move _on_, Ziva, not move _under_ -- oof!"

Now it was Ziva's turn to snicker as she felt her partner double over in pain. She'd only elbowed him in the ribs, but next time she'd aim much lower.

She told him so.

Tony only had the courage to clear his throat and mumble a soft acknowledgment in response.

"Right . . ."

"Let's go."

"Okay."

He jerked slightly, his arm twitching against her.

"Your eyes are closed, right?"

"Right."

"'Cause it won't work the same if your eyes aren't closed."

"They're closed, Tony."

"'Kay. Um . . . then, just . . . follow my lead."

"Alright."

And Ziva felt herself being guided in the direction of the monument, Tony taking careful steps beside her to make sure she didn't stumble.

It wasn't long before he stopped her.

"Okay, I'm gonna turn you around," he said after a moment, and he began to put a bit on pressure on her shoulders. Ziva turned easily under his touch.

"Yep, all the way around, so you're facing me . . . there ya go. Perfect."

Somewhere, in some dark corner of her brain, Ziva considered that maybe, just maybe, she and Tony might do well dancing together.

Even when she had her eyes closed, they never seemed to miss a step . . .

"Okay, now just back up. Slowly."

And Tony was moving forward, gently encouraging her to step back. His hands never left her shoulders.

Ziva hadn't gone more than three paces before she felt the cold stone of the obelisk touch against her shoulders.

"Right . . . you can stop now . . . obviously."

She grinned at that, teasing him.

"Yeah, obviously, Tony."

"Oh, hush."

Ziva laughed.

"Okay."

She felt him reposition himself beside her, pressed up against the brick, just like she was. Their elbows were brushing.

"Now, here's the cool part . . ." he said, and she could hear the childlike excitement tinging his voice. "Okay, just tilt your head back . . . nope, little farther . . . now, open your eyes."

Ziva did as she was instructed, and as she did, she gasped. She was suddenly claimed by a sensation that seemed to twist her perception until it ruptured; the remnants of it dissolved under a stress borne from optical illusion. It was as if the entire world had inverted itself; gravity was still tugging her down, keeping her back to the wall and her feet to the ground, but as her gaze spiraled off into the black void of the sky, she could no longer be sure of what was up and what was . . . anything else. The immensity of the structure looming above her had triggered something in her inner ear, and the sudden onslaught of vertigo sent her balance into a state of wild disarray. Unable to breathe, she felt her knees being to fail her, her back sliding roughly down the bricks behind her. She felt certain that, at any moment, the fabric of her rationale would tear and she would be swallowed up by . . . something. The feeling bordered on indescribable. She didn't understand it. She'd never felt anything like this before in her enitre life. And that's the soul reason she didn't close her eyes and stagger away from the obelisk. She was terrified, and she was nauseous, but she was fascinated all the same. Her system was throbbing with the thrill of adrenaline.

It wasn't until her vision began to grey around the edges that she began to realize just how far gone she was. Or maybe it was the fact that there were suddenly arms around her, catching her mid-collapse, helping her keep her feet.

"Ziva . . ." Tony's voice was in her ear, whispering with stress. She wasn't really holding her own weight yet.

"Ziva . . . hey." He tried again, pulling her against him so she wouldn't fall. "What's wrong? What happened?"

He was concerned, _that _much she could now register, and she was half-contented with the idea of letting him stay that way, if it meant he'd keep holding her the way he was now.

Then she realized she could feel his heart pounding between her shoulder blades; the heat pulsating behind her was running hard and heavy, and the breaths that broadened his chest against her back were quick and shallow. She knew in that moment that her lack of response was beginning to scare him.

Her brow furrowed at the thought.

What was _he_ so worried about? After all, she was just a little dizzy. Couldn't he tell?

His whole reaction seemed a bit disproportionate to her.

Then she caught him talking to her again, his voice now taught with fear.

"C'mon, Ziva . . . snap out of it! I swear, if I'd known it would make you pass out, I never would have had you do that!"

_Wait. _

_Hold on . . . _

He thought she was passing out?!

Ziva's eyes snapped back into focus, a sudden rush of heated pride surging against her consciousness, thrusting her mind back into awareness.

She was raw with incredulity.

How _dare_ he even consider . . . !

She did _not_ . . . did not _swoon_ like some delicate little flower of girl!

With an indignant huff, she began to twist in her partner's hold, growling low in her throat as she tried to get herself free.

"I am not passing out!" Ziva snapped defiantly, and she arched her back in anger.

Tony's breath of relief did not escape her notice.

"Well, it damn sure looked like you were!" he shot back unevenly.

"Well, I was not! And I _do_ not! Now, let go of me!"

"N-naah . . ." For a moment, he seemed to consider the idea of denying her, and his body twitched for a fraction of a second, holding her tighter. Then he relaxed again, but still didn't let her go. He cleared his throat.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay? I've never seen you do anything like that before."

"And you never will again," she sent back swiftly, but the genuine concern in his voice made Ziva ease up on her struggles.

She sighed.

"I am fine, Tony."

"That's . . . that's good."

"So . . . um . . . you can let go of me now."

But he didn't.

Ziva began to shift restlessly against her partner's support. Now that her anger and her initial dizziness were receding, she began to realize just how compromising their position was. The way Tony was holding her robbed her of the majority of her leverage, and she was reliant on him in order to keep herself balanced. The lack of control was making her nervous.

Plus, she didn't really want to consider the possibility that it was, in fact, the overall intimacy in the orientation of their bodies that was making her feel so edgy.

The outside of her knee was brushing the inside of his.

_Well, if he wasn't going to let her go . . . _

Narrowing her eyes, Ziva slid her leg.

Tony jumped at the deliberate contact.

"Whoa," he gasped sharply, "Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?"

She smirked as he fought not to shy away from her.

"Hah . . . um," he sounded a little foggy. "Just, uh . . . you know what? Just don't move for a sec'."

"Why?"

"'Cause . . . I gotta tell you something."

"What about?"

"Well . . . about this. This monument, I mean. I wanted to say it earlier, but . . ."

He trailed off, and Ziva turned her head to the barest of inclines. Mostly, she did it to encourage her partner to continue . . . but the motion was also slightly self-serving.

Turned this way, a bit more of Tony's breath warmed her jaw line when he spoke.

She liked the feeling.

Smiling a little, Ziva softly encouraged him, belaying any physical distractions.

"I am listening," she said.

"Right . . . _well . . ._" and he broke some confidence into his voice. She knew, then, that he was attempting to take the control from her. Her heart started to beat faster as she felt the lines of his body change again.

He was regaining his sense of dominance.

Ziva's nervousness was doubling itself over, now, with that realization, and the mindless thrumming in her brain was increasing exponentially . . . but she didn't want any of it to stop.

_Dammit . . . _

She should have had a better control on herself, she knew. But for some reason, she didn't mind it when he weakened her this way.

_It's because he is just so damn close . . . _

_Wait . . . was he talking to her again?_

His voice was soft, but strong enough to feel inside her ribcage.

"I didn't bring you here because this thing looks like a giant . . . you know," he murmured, and tilted his head, letting her fill in the blanks. Ziva felt a flush working its way up her throat as a product of their persisting closeness. She was just barely able to control the tremors thrilling just beneath her skin. Then Tony was leaning in further, arms no longer holding her steady but just plain holding her, the warmth of him permeating her back as he whispered into her ear . . .

"But _now_ we know where your mind is."

Back going rigid with shock at the statement, Ziva's eyes snapped open, widening until the brown coins of her irises were isolated among white. The creeping heat beneath her collar suddenly ignited in a wash across her entire face, making her scalp prickle when it disappeared into her hairline. She stood stunned beyond words, lagging into an expanding silence, a void Tony managed to fill with a chuckle and a shift. Before she could react, he was beside her with his eyes glittering in floodlight, drawing his arm across her shoulders -- her _shoulders_, she noticed belatedly,_ not_ her waist -- and guiding her into movement.

"C'mon," he said, clearly amused by her expression. "Next stop, Lincoln Memorial."

As they stepped out onto the lawns, Ziva cursed inwardly.

She'd been so sure she'd turned it all around on him . . .

_Dammit. _

Grudgingly, her mind took the tally . . .

_DiNozzo, one. David, zero. _

It was gonna be a long night.

---

Author's Notes: I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I hope it's long length will make up for that. As always, reviews are welcomed and critiques are encouraged. I hope you enjoyed. I hope to have more soon.


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